Updates, Updates, Updates

I'm going to be going to the Cleveland Clinic in July to see Rheumatology, Pain Management, and Neurology. I'm hoping that someone will at least know something about EDS. According to several people, Cleveland Clinic is the place to go for Hypermobile Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. I really honestly hope they're right. 

Honestly I'm so tired from all of this. I'm tired of fighting all the time and then something else goes wrong with my health. 

I saw an audiologist today and found out that I have hearing loss. And my brain isn't processing what I hear correctly. After I see an ENT and the Cleveland Clinic Neurologist, they're most likely going to be fitting me with hearing aids. 

There might also be something very wrong with my brain and it might be deteriorating faster than I thought and it scares me. Honestly scares me. My brain has always been my greatest strength. The fact that I was the top of my class was the one thing I always fought for. I took pride in being able to remember facts and memories and songs. And now I'm forgetting words right and left, forgetting whole chunks of memory, and having to watch everything with subtitles. It sucks.

Also, my body is getting worse and I need to use my wheelchair more often. Which I'm refusing to do right now because I'm stubborn and sad. Even though it will help me. So I should do it. Rats. Fine, I'll do it. Y'all make a convincing argument. 

I hope the Cleveland Clinic can help me improve my quality of life. I'll do whatever they want. I'll hang upside down and adopt a muskrat. I'll stand on my head and recite the the alphabet backwards (which I've never been able to successfully do). Whatever they want. 

In happier news, I've been really enjoying Brooklyn 99. It's a very light-hearted, sweet show. And Terry Crews is a complete gift to the entire world. God bless Terry Crews. 

This is a very short update, but seeing as I can't remember the last time my blog updated, here we are!

An Open Letter To Megyn Kelly

Oh, Megyn Kelly. You're trying so hard. And you say such terrible things and then have a huge segment the next day about why what you said was bad. And while you frustrate me, I weirdly find myself wanting to give you a hug. You were too radical for Fox News and now too narrow-minded for the rest of the world. You're struggling to figure out your place in today's media. And I appreciate your struggle. I was there, once. I was narrow-minded, but not enough for the community around me. I was open-minded, but not open-minded enough for the world outside of that little community. It took years of struggling, debating, and educating myself with every possible thing I could find to read or listen to in order to figure out how to think for myself and what exactly I believed to be true. I believe you to be an intelligent, interesting, compassionate person who wants to do the best you can in your job. And you're fighting an uphill battle. Against the community you used to represent and the community you want to be a part of and also, most importantly, against yourself.
After your recent horrible comments about fat-shaming, I was shocked. But so sad for you. Because here you were, exposing your weaknesses to the world in an off-handed way with a chuckle. All I could think was how horrible your childhood must have been to warp your thoughts on weight so thoroughly. And then today, in a carefully written and passionately given monologue, you told the world that yes, your views on these things are painfully warped by horrible experiences growing up. And I understand. I used to say terrible things to mask how hurt I had been. Things like, "All you have to do is exercise," when in reality, I was terrified of my changing body and wounded by constant "moo" sounds in the hallway when I passed by. People who were gay were wrong and gross, until I actually met someone who was and became good friends with them. And they weren't gross and wrong. And slowly, my world views began to change. 
For me, these changes happened my senior year of high school and continued through my college years. And I'm also still a work in progress. I like to think of myself as an open and loving person. But I know I'm not done and I continue to ask humbly for education from people who are closer to issues I am unsure about. And because I've been there, I try to be patient when confronted with people who are speaking from places of hurt or ignorance or internalized nastiness. Which is why I cannot just write you off.
It's terrifying to realize that your views and thoughts might be wrong. I keep using terrifying and terrible because it is. Because you realize how much you've missed and how many you might have accidentally hurt with your words.
I wish you the best, Megyn Kelly. Your journey is your own and I hope you keep doing the hard work of reflection and change.

New Doctor, Same Story

I saw a Rheumatologist today. He was great and thorough. We're testing for different arthritis types and some muscle diseases, but he said that he would definitely diagnose me as Hypermobile (EDS) and if the other tests come back negative, there's nothing he can do to help/treat me. He said that I should look for centers with specialists who are researching EDS and go there. He also wants me to wait until I see the Neurologist next month, as many of my symptoms he would classify as neurological in nature.

I'm happy that there are more tests to run and more specialists to see, but it is disheartening to hear that the field of Rheumatology has nothing to help me. On the other hand, it's nice to rule out an entire field of medicine as something that has possibilities. So here we are, waiting another month to see a Neurologist. And if this Neurologist doesn't have any ideas, there is another one my primary care doctor wants to send me to. And if that doesn't work, my primary care doctor is going to send me to Mayo Clinic in Phoenix. I've been to the one in Rochester many times, because it is where I was diagnosed with POTS, EDS, and PCOS. It's also the first place where the PTSD acronym was thrown out as a possibility. I have faith that they know what they're doing. Yes, Mayo Clinic is full of humans and humans have limited knowledge and make mistakes, but I've found that they're much more keen on finding out what is going on with your body than other specialists. But we'll see. Maybe the Neurologist I see next month will be amazing.

It's hard to keep going to see new doctors. It's hard to keep going over and over my symptom list. It's hard to continually explain my background and diagnoses. It's hard to keep my hope that this doctor will be the answer in check and it's harder when that hope, however tiny, gets crushed. It's weird that after all these doctors, I would still have a little hope when I see new doctors. But as silly as it sounds, it is true. My hopes are dashed every time and I cry. 

My husband and I treated ourselves to some restaurant food after the visit. We're trying to stick to the Paleo way of eating as much as possible (my Gynecologist recommended it to help with my hormone regulation) to see if it helps my overall health, but sometimes you just need hot food that someone else made.

My dogs are informing me that it is cuddle time, so until next time, friends! Stay safe, and remember that you are loved.

Triggers and Hope

Last night, I was watching The Bachelor and enjoying supplying and reading comedic commentary with my friends via a group text. I was enjoying myself and laughing, looking forward to when these particular friends come to visit me in the Spring. Then, I was reading a text and didn't notice that the next show had come on. It was The Good Doctor, a great show with excellent actors. It also happens to be a medical show. When I was recovering from my surgeries, I used to force myself to watch Grey's Anatomy in small doses and I would turn the channel when the crying and/or throwing up and/or flashbacks would begin. Medical shows now are not something I choose to watch, but I don't have flashbacks every time I see a minute or two by accident anymore. But for some reason, last night my PTSD wouldn't let me look away. There was surgery and brain surgery. And I was incredibly triggered.
I didn't realize what was happening until I found myself in the fetal position on my bed with my husband holding me tightly and both my dogs alerting and grounding me while I rocked and screamed that I didn't want these memories in my head. That I wanted to cut my memories out of my brain. That I wanted it all to stop. That I know I'm not a combat victim but that I've seen the other side and I want to forget. I want to forget it all. Every traumatic experience, every man that followed me or held me down, every cut of the surgerical knife, every time I hurtled towards the other side, every thing I've seen and felt, every hurt that has stayed with me. I want to forget.
I screamed and cried and Ray held me and whispered comfort in my ear and both dogs did their grounding skills like their furry lives depended on it and soon my sobs became less harsh and I was able to breathe again. Then, my husband told me a funny story that made me laugh so loudly that I felt my head clear like cobwebs getting swabbed out with a mop.
I thought I was getting ahead of this. But this was just a reminder that PTSD never fully heals. It is with you for life and you are not weak for not "letting it go" or "getting over it" or whatever. Many things can help you manage the symptoms, but anyone who claims to have a cure is selling a load of horseshit. This is a good thing to remember when posts about people changing their lives and curing incurable diseases seem to be abundant. The New Year brings new scams and new people trying to make a buck off of those of us who are sick. They know we're sick of being sick. They know we're tired. They know we're doing whatever we can to try to get better and that we feel all kinds of pressure from everyone to heal and get completely better and that we feel like we are a burden and it is our job to fix ourselves. And they prey on us. Don't let them. Don't buy their products, don't enroll in their programs. Buy products and enroll in programs that will help you, by all means! But anyone who says they can cure you is not truthful. And this is a painful thing to realize. That we're incurable. That this is with us for life. And, if you're like me, you go through multiple bouts of grieving and probably will for life. Get a support system. Get help. Get your symptoms managed. And attempt to live your best life possible. And that life can look beautiful. I promise.
This post is a mess

Terror.

I know I've been absent from this blog for a few months. I'm sorry. I've been so afraid and sick and terrified that anytime I sat down to write anything, I felt an overflow of emotions that wouldn't allow me to express myself articulately. And I'm still in that state, but I think I'm going to try to tell y'all what's up.
My health has gone into another nosedive. I've been terrified, feeling like I'm falling down a slippery slope to some uncertain fate.
I managed to start my internship with a local nonprofit that trains service dogs for veterans. Their name and the names of all veterans and details about that internship can not be discussed here, as I signed a privacy agreement. I had no problem signing that agreement, as I believe the people I work with deserve the privacy the paper asked me to protect. I will say that I think I've found my calling, and it is training service dogs for civilians. I will be re-directing any veteran that comes to me for a service dog to the nonprofit I am interning with, as they are the best at what they do. But I'm very excited to see what the future holds for me as it relates to dog training.
Now, back to health. Long story short, I'm seeing a bunch of specialists and they are testing me for many diseases. They don't think it is EDS anymore or, if I do have EDS, I have other things on top of that. I'm no longer just an Ehlers-Danlos "Zebra," and I'm just so scared. The main thing they think I probably have is Multiple Sclerosis. I had been doing some research on new and scary symptoms that were getting aggressively worse, and some of my EDS forums were talking about how MS was linked to EDS and how MS was the source of all of these symptoms that I realized I had. I researched MS myself, and was astonished how every single detail of MS seemed to line up with my symptoms. I approached my Internal Medicine Specialist with a new list of all my symptoms and told him I was worried about MS. I asked him to tell me if I was being a hypochondriac and that I just had EDS. He told me I was right to worry. My heart sank. He told me that my symptom list was textbook MS. We set up tests and specialists. He did some blood tests to rule out Lupus and RA, and they came back ruling out Lupus and RA. And now we wait. We wait for the horrible news.
Because either way, it will be horrible. If I am told I have MS, it is horrible. If I am told I don't, then I'm back where I was YET AGAIN where I have to fight for tests and diagnoses and some goddamn help.
If I had a dollar for the number of times I've broken down sobbing, telling my husband that I just want someone to help me, I'd have enough money to pay for all the alternative treatments I need to stay upright. I've been collapsed on the bedroom floor, sobbing and begging the powers that be for some form of help more than once in the past couple months.
So here I am, unable to write any sort of good blog post about current events, my dogs, my internship, TV, movies, music, or whatever else because I'm in a blind panic about what is happening inside my body.
So. That's me. How are you all?

Essential Oils and Natural Medicine

As I sit here typing this, I just finished a Med Bath. I'm able to walk around the house, do low-impact exercise, take care of a house and two dogs and a lizard, and go on dates with my husband. And while I have nasty symptoms still, I have come a long way in the year and a half since I discovered natural medicine. Let me tell you about it and then give you some information for if you're starting a natural medicine journey or need some ideas to re-start your journey.
In January of 2016, I was pulling out chunks of my hair regularly. I had daily horrific muscle spasms, fell often, and was in extreme pain. My body shut down and tried to reject my medications that I needed to live. I stayed on the basic meds, but was not able to take anything for the pain or nausea. My stomach also refused nearly all food, reducing me to eating nasty, unhealthy things just to keep a calorie count up. I existed on white bread, small amounts of cheese, occasional milk, and that's about it. Fruits and vegetables caused seizure-like episodes and blackouts followed by severe stomach cramps and frequent vomiting. My service dog Riley was working overtime and was getting worn out by the sheer magnitude of her duties. I was looking forward to a wedding (mine) in June and starting a new life with my husband in December. And here I was in January, unable to climb five stair steps without crying due to the pain. I was unable to work and had to move in with my parents while I waited to join my husband (we're military...there's a lot of waiting).
My mother sat me down and told me that I had to work while I was living with them. I was shocked until she told me what she meant. She told me that while I was living with them, she expected me to fight for my health and she was going to do everything she could to support me in that fight. She told me my job was to see as many doctors as I could and try as many things as I could while I had a safe place and people to look after me should something go wrong. With her unwavering support, I contacted my primary care doctor and demanded that I get referrals.
After several failed specialist visits, I got referred to a rheumatologist who remains one of the single greatest doctors I've seen. After doing a thorough exam during which he dislocated every joint in my body and put them back (much to Riley's disapproval) he told me quite frankly that I had the worst case he'd seen, there wasn't anything he could do for me, and that what I was going through was, and I quote, "a special kind of hell." I had loose joints and severely tight muscles. My entire body was convinced it was under attack all the time and was seizing up and refusing food and other outside things like medication because it perceived them as attacks. Any type of movement, even sitting up, was viewed by my body as a horrific event. He told me my body was in crisis and he didn't have any treatments that wouldn't make that worse. He then asked me how I felt about natural medicine.
I told him all the natural medicine I had tried was people telling me that yoga and prayer would fix me. He told me yoga is detrimental to people with my specific condition and that he wasn't talking about that kind of medicine. He set me up with an Integrative Medicine specialist at a local Cancer Institute. His honesty and referral are among the greatest gifts a doctor has ever given me.
I met with an Integrative Medicine Specialist who worked daily with people in severe pain with weak or no immune system. Bodies in crisis were her specialty. She was very honest with me and gave me a bunch of tips and inside information and recipes. I'll share her tips below. I began using Essential Oils, natural supplements, and massage therapy to help me get my health under control. Using what she taught me, I began what will be a lifelong journey to healing using natural medicine.

Information I got from the Integrative Medicine Specialist:
1. DO YOUR RESEARCH. Seriously. Research, research, research. NEVER take information you find on a website that sells you a product for fact unless you back it up with other research.
2. Just because a company says their oils are great, it doesn't mean they are. Again, do your research. You're looking for a 100% organic oil, but make sure it has a "certified" label. "Certified organic" or "certified therapeutic and/or medical grade" are what you're looking for. Young Living Essential Oils are fantastic for the average user, but not for someone who is looking to use them for purely medical benefits. (She didn't say anything about DoTerra, so do your research. And this was a year and a half ago and it is possible that YL has gotten medical/therapeutic grade oils since then. Refer to #1 on this list.) I personally use Wyndmere and oils I get from an apothecary in my current city. I'm lucky enough to have access to that apothecary. I did use some Aura Cacia oils for a bit, but found that their quality really varied from oil to oil and sometimes even bottle to bottle. If it's from Walmart or is a pre-packaged "bath," it's not medical grade.
3. Natural medicine cannot replace traditional medicine. Take your medications. Always.
4. Always consult your doctor before starting anything if you've got an underlying medical condition.
5. What works for one person may be harmful to another. Trial and error is the name of the game. And never take a full dose of anything to start. Start small always and work up.
6. Test oils on the inside of your forearm. Put a drop there and wait. If in fifteen minutes nothing has happened, you're probably good to use it (again, start with a small amount). If your skin swells up or turns red or a rash appears, that's a histamine reaction and you must wash off the oil immediately with cold water. Do not scrub or it will get worse. Discontinue use of the oil completely. If, like me, your body randomly rejects things one week and then not the next week, keep the oil around and test it again in a month or so.
7. Start slow. Start slow. START SLOW. If you find a recipe online or in a book or even from a doctor, cut it in half or even down to 25% and use that to see if you're going to be able to tolerate it.
8. Never start multiple treatments at the same time. Start with one thing, do it for a month, then maybe add another thing. The trick with natural medicine is to relax your body into healing. If you attack it with multiple things, it will see it as just that: an attack.
9. Start with aromatherapy. Then move on to topical treatments. Then go to the internal things like supplements, etc. Again, you're easing your body into a new way of behaving.
10. Try, try, try. It might get frustrating to buy something and then find out it doesn't work so it might be helpful to see if a friend wants to go in with you on buying oils or if they have some you can try in a small amount.
11. It will take months before you see any major benefits. The immediate effects (such as smelling peppermint for nausea) will be nice, but the major benefits of overall better health will take forever to show up.
12. Aromatherapy and all topical oils are like punching your brain in the face. You want your brain to react a certain way, so you smell or apply a certain thing. This one's confusing, so here's an example: You want your brain to stop sending you the signals that make you feel nauseous. You punch it in the face with extreme peppermint fumes. Your body says "OH GOOD HEAVENS WHAT IS THAT THING! THE ONLY WAY TO COMBAT IT IS TO STOP FEELING NAUSEOUS!" and shuts off the nausea signals. It's more scientific than that, but that's the basic idea. Another example would be using lemon for anti-inflammatory purposes. Your brain gets overloaded with the lemon and the lemon somehow tricks the brain into sending your body anti-inflammatory things. Thus, your body becomes less inflamed. Science.

And now things I have learned:
1. All of the above tips are essential (pun not intended) to the success of your treatment plan. Don't skip any of them.
2. Certain oils can sometimes "burn" the skin in high concentrations. It will start as a histamine reaction that will turn into welts that look like nasty burns on your skin. Always start with a heavily diluted concentration and work your way up slowly. If you think you've got too high a concentration of an oil by accident, it's better to throw your solution away (or drain the tub, etc.) than to suffer the oil burns. Been there, done that. Nasty stuff. Citrus oils are the most prone to do that.
3. Use a carrier oil for topical treatments. Carrier oils are what you dilute the essential oil in. Grapeseed, jojoba, coconut, and almond are the common ones. I like grapeseed because it's cheap and I'm not allergic to it. I personally don't use it in Med Baths, but others need it to dilute the oils in the bath.
4. So many oils can be used for so many different things. It's upsetting to try to find the right ones that work for you, but very rewarding when you do.
5. Different people swear by different carrier oil to essential oil ratios. It's basically a handful of carrier oil for every 3-5 drops of essential oils. Some people do more, some do less. It's what works for you and your skin and your body and doesn't harm you.

And now, a recipe for a Med Bath, straight from the Cancer Institute:

MED BATH
2-2 1/2 Cups of Epsom Salt
1/2 - 1 Cups of Baking Soda
5-15 Drops of Each Essential Oil (The type of oil depends on what you want the Med Bath for)
1/2 Cup of Sea Salt

Combine with water as hot as you can handle. Begin with only a five minute soak. Work your way (over several months) up to 15-30 minutes. Begin with only a few drops of oils. Work your way up to more.

(ALWAYS have a glass of ice water or even two handy, as you'll get dehydrated and feel awful after the bath. NEVER take a Med Bath when you are alone in the house, in case of fainting. NEVER take one before exercising or going somewhere. Plan to go to bed with plenty of water to drink afterwards. My healthy as a horse husband took a full strength one when he had a cold and was weak as a kitten for five hours afterwards.) (If you're getting sick, take one of the above baths every single day and your sickness will come on aggressively and then go away quickly, cutting your sick days down by over 30%. You'll be miserable for your sick days, but there will be less of them.)

If you just want a relaxing bath, 1 cup of Epsom Salt and add a carrier oil and use only 5-10 drops of Essential Oils. Or skip the Epsom Salt altogether. The Med Bath recipe above is only to be used by people who are sick (with a chronic illness) or are getting sick (like getting a cold or the flu).

Common Oils/Uses include:
 - Lemon for anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial, useful if you've got a cold or are getting a cold
 - Cinnamon for congestion and sinus headaches
 - Lavender for calming properties (personally, I hate lavender. But you do you.)
 - Sweet Orange for anti-inflammatory and anti-bacterial
 - Peppermint for nausea or pain
 - Eucalyptus with Lemon and/or Peppermint for pain
 - Frankincense for pain, sinus headaches, congestion, basically everything
 - Myrrh for pain

My daily bath includes Ravensara, Copaiba, and Palmarosa for building collagen. Sometimes Peppermint or Frankincense is added in for pain. I add Vanilla and/or a bit of White Musk in it just because they make it more pleasant. I tinker with the intensity of the bath based on how I'm feeling and what I'm needing on any given day. You've got to find what works for you.


Hope you enjoyed my scattered yet informative post about my use of Essential Oils. Please comment below with tips and tricks and feel free to educate me on Young Living, DoTerra, or whatever brands you use. I'm always open to learning more!

Learning To Be Okay: Trauma and C-PTSD

TW: For me, just reading the following words will sometimes trigger episodes. But here are things that will be mentioned below: Emotional Abuse, Sexual Assault, Physical Abuse, Trauma, Religious Abuse, Medical Abuse, Demonology, Suicidal Thoughts and Actions 

Questions I get asked frequently: When you say C-PTSD, what do you mean? Surely you can't have had that many traumas, as most people only experience one horrific event or like a rapid succession of awful and then get PTSD, right? And how long have you been suicidal?

My childhood had several traumatic events that I refuse to discuss here as physical, emotional, and sexual abuse were involved and I quite frankly can't discuss it yet. My earliest memory of being suicidal is when I was 8 years old. I used to imagine a small chocolate lab puppy running along side the bus, sitting outside the classroom window, rolling in the grass outside my house, etc. When my brain couldn't process my emotions, I would look out windows and imagine that puppy there. When things got awful, I imagined running with that puppy. I began to daydream about following that puppy far away from where I was. At night, I dreamt of running after the puppy and the puppy leading me to the door to the Afterlife. In my dreams, I was always too afraid to open the door. Sometimes a wolf would chase me and the puppy to a dark, terrifying door and I would scoop the little guy up and run with him. The wolf would tell me that it was only a matter of time before he would get me and drag me into hell. I began to dream that the way to avoid the wolf was to either run or to slip into a natural death. At the ripe old age of 8, I began trying to hold my breath until I died. Nearly every single night. If I saw dark spots I'd stop, because I didn't want to end up at the dark door with the wolf. The several occasions that bright spots exploded before my eyes, indicating my successful journey to the bright door with the puppy, something happened such as a family member coming in my room to check on me or a loud noise that would scare me into breathing. After a few months of this, I decided it wasn't a good way to die and I'd have to find another way to get to the puppy and the bright door. I began to accept that I'd just have to wait for death to find me, as my attempts to find it didn't work. My physical and emotional abuse continued with new abusers replacing the old. Many events happened that made me desperate to find a way to escape.

When I was 10, I became obsessed with running away into oblivion. I didn't want to run to a place, just wanted to run until I was away from those who were hurting me. I tried to run away from school, but realized it was cold outside and I hadn't had a drink of water in a while. I went back inside to get my coat and a drink and was caught by the custodian, who I lied to and said I was looking for a dropped pencil. He escorted me back to class. I spent many days trying to see if I could open my locker quietly enough to get my coat out but as luck would have it, mine had a squeaky door. I knew I would be caught and get in trouble and I didn't want to get in trouble. I wanted to run away or die, not get in trouble, so I stayed in school. I noticed a small rip in a back fence in the schoolyard and slowly, over several months, made it Abby-sized. I slipped through it and ran away from school again later that year at the beginning of recess, but came back by the end because I realized I had no where to go and I had no plan. Another time I ran away from recess with a plan but was seen by a local mom who asked me what I was doing and I told her I was running an errand but was going back to school right then. She walked with me all the way back until the school was in sight and watched me slip back through the hole I had created in the back fence. She told the school about the hole and it was repaired by the next day. 

When I was 11, I suffered another severe traumatic event at the hands of my peers. It was a bullying session that went entirely too far. I found a book about a pre-teen who used cutting as a means to deal with her life. I hadn't considered violently taking my own life until I found that book. I went home and took a knife out of the kitchen drawer. I was contemplating whether to stab or slice my wrists when my mom came home from a shopping trip or meeting and I threw the knife in the drawer, ran to the bathroom and threw up. I then ran to my room and shook, sobbing as I realized there was no escape from my life and I was truly trapped in it. 

At 12 years old, I had a brief reprieve from all the awfulness as I found a love of fantasy novels and of writing stories about young girls like me with super powers destroying those who tried to hurt them and those they loved. That year was one of the best of my life. Anytime something upsetting happened, I slipped into my fantasy world where I was all-powerful and destroyed my abusers and sadness with the help of an army of cats or with space blasters or with my own amazing super powers. 

At 13, I ended up seeing demons in my room at night who I believed were responsible for my "bad thoughts" about myself. One evening, I crawled from my room to the mirror in my parents' room over and over again like some kind of possessed horror movie kid, sobbing and demanding to know why I couldn't just die. I remember curling up in the fetal position out of exhaustion and praying that the demons would go away. The shadows with eyes I had seen disappeared and I was able to get up. I didn't see them after that. I now know, from talking to psychiatrists and psychologists, that I was suffering from PTSD-fueled hallucinations and that I had been in the throes of a severe depressive episode and that the demons leaving was due to my brain finally kicking into life-saving mode and repressing the memories that had been haunting me. 

At 15, I had my first homicidal stalker. He was a friend who became upset when I did not want to date him. He sent me letters detailing how he was going to kill me and what he was going to do to my dead body. I got a brief reprieve when he went to college and found a girl who looks exactly like me. He was kicked out of college for stalking her and sending her death and rape threats. He then returned to his parents' house and proceeded to e-mail me regularly and call me when he knew my parents were not home. He continued with this throughout my college years and indeed was still taking his car and following me around my hometown occasionally right up until I got married. 

At 16, I helped a guy friend get over a break-up and he became obsessed with me and would threaten to kill himself if I didn't talk to him, hang out with him, etc. I finally drew the line when he asked for sex and sent me a picture of himself with a gun to his head when I refused. I called the police on him and refused to give my name. He got help, but I remained horrified by the whole thing. 

At 17, a boy told me he loved me and asked me to sleep with him. I told him I wasn't ready and he went and had sex with other women and blamed me for it. 

At 19, I was sexually assaulted by a boy I thought was my friend. He proceeded to try to kill me with his car, stalk me for four years, and show up in my college town my junior (or was it senior?) year to try to run me over with a brand new car and then he came to my campus and stood in the middle of it with a gun in his pocket, asking random college students if they knew where I lived. A friend of his called me and told me to hide, as this boy had expressed to this friend that he was going to "finish what he started" with me as he hadn't "tried hard enough" before. 

At 20, a young man became obsessed with me and it wasn't until he was deep in a psychotic breakdown that I found out how dangerous he was. I'll leave it at that. 

At 23, I underwent what was supposed to be a routine surgery to correct a malformation in my skull. It turned into seven horrific surgeries. I technically died four separate times and I have seen the afterlife three times. It was after this that my coping skills completely failed. I became actively suicidal during and after my recovery. Meeting my service dog Riley saved my life. She is the reason I am still here today. 

After meeting her, I met my husband. Together they are helping me heal. Jeph now also alerts to attacks and is learning to lick me and take care of me when I cry.

Add all the above to years of being sick and not believed, medicated incorrectly, and treated like a pariah by the medical community and you've got one hell of a cocktail.

TL;DR: When I say I have C-PTSD, it means I cannot point to a specific time in my life or specific traumas that led to my PTSD. I've been suicidal since childhood.

Other FAQS:

Is your husband an abuser? HELL NO. He is the best thing that has EVER happened to me.

Who were those peers when you were 11? Can you tell us more about that event? I won't go into it because it isn't healthy for me to purposely re-live it when my brain is more than capable of putting me back there at any time in my mind. As for those peers, they've grown into kind, excellent men who have spouses and kids of their own. They've each, at one time or another, approached me and, horrified at their own actions, apologized and begged for forgiveness. Some have approached me more than once because they couldn't forgive themselves. Even though the trauma from what they've done echoes in my brain and will forever, I've forgiven them in my heart and refuse to disclose who they are because we've all moved on.

What happened before age 8? I can't talk about that. If I ever can, I'll let y'all know.

I'd love to hear more specific examples of your traumas between birth and age 14. Sorry, not going to go into that here. 

What kinds of abuse have you suffered? Physical, emotional, and sexual abuse. 

Do you believe in repressed memories? There are several instances that are so bad that I only remember the before and after and who was involved and my brain refuses to let me remember the actual event. When you're hurt, your brain does everything it can for self-preservation and sometimes, particularly for the ones that happened when I was young, it blocks the conscious mind's access to them to avoid experiencing that hurt again in detail. 

WOAH YOU SAW THE AFTERLIFE OMG TELL ME ABOUT IT DID YOU SEE LIGHTS AND STUFF?? I appreciate your interest, but please respect my need to not talk about it. It took months for me to be able to admit out loud that I'd seen anything when I died and I still haven't talked to anyone about it and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to. 

How did 1 surgery turn into 7? My surgeon tells me it was because he was pre-occupied with wedding details for his upcoming wedding and he thinks that excuses his shoddy work on my fucking skull and that it excuses him doing things like losing a surgical instrument in my body, making unnecessary holes in my skull, bruising my brain by shooting a dart backwards through my head instead of the way he meant to, sending me home with fluid leaking out of my brain and my brain in danger of falling into my spinal column because he was busy, and authorizing a surgery without anesthesia because he read the form incorrectly. And no, I can't sue him because I had to sign forms saying I wouldn't in order to get the repairs I needed to live.